Sweet Teeth
by Themis56
Summary: Sweet natured Milly knows how to enjoy a good bowl of ice cream. Unfortunately for her, during a trip to the parlor, she has a run in with someone whose sweet tooth far exceeds her own. Mostly experimental but hopefully interesting. Bon appetite.


-1_Trigun and all related characters are copyright of Yasuhiro Nightow, Pioneer, YKO, etc. All I wanted to do was experiment and see what would happen if Milly Thompson and Legato Bluesummers' personalities bounced off each other. Is a little bit of psychological torture so wrong?_

SWEET TEETH  
by Themis56

There was a certain poetic philosophy to sweets, Milly Thompson believed, an ineffable delight in the harmony of the various starches, glucoses, and flavors that had the power to work miracles. She attributed her affable, sweet nature to her choices of puddings, candies, and teas that augmented what was a surprisingly sensible diet. No, she didn't live on pudding alone, as much as that was the dream! Her parents had taught her to eat well, plus she'd learned the hard way first hand as a child when once she only ate pudding and cookies for two days straight--it hadn't been a pleasant experience for anyone involved. But she was certain that her love for anything sweet had shaped her, molded her so that she _was _what she ate. Tea and pudding were refined, happy, and made their devotees in their image, whereas people who drank bitter black coffee all the time and ate nothing but spicy foods were just as bitter and snappy. If everyone drank a single cup of tea--or some other non-bitter drink--each day, she was certain that crime would drop, people would live longer, and sorrows the world over would be lifted up, paradise spreading into the bellies of all.

Visions of utopia aside, she took it as a duty upon herself to make sure their supplies always held some measure of treats--both Mr. Vash and Senpai really made no bones that they had a taste for them, and as for Mr. Wolfwood, well, she could hopefully sway him a little by her own example. He didn't seem to mind when she offered spoonfuls of her pudding or little hard candies to him on occasion. But there were also seasons for everything, Milly was certain, and that also meant that there was a time for taking sugary nourishment with beloved friends and a time to do it privately. Now, with Senpai in the room napping and Mr. Vash and Mr. Wolfwood out at their own respective business, Milly felt the time ripe to partake in the latter manner. Strangely enough, she did not desire a pudding feast; it was just too hot. Slightly vexed, she began to sweat her way down the street, searching.

The answer appeared before her in the form of a small but tidy ice cream shop, sign boasting twenty flavors. Its resin-slick façade gleamed burnished with pinks, blues, and whites under the suns. Milly breezed into the parlor, her anticipation making her seem even taller, and partially skipped to the counter. Her skin's sweat cooled her body when the brisk interior air hit. She eyed the ice cream tubs under the glass, not pressing her nose to it so she wouldn't violate any health codes (Bernardelli had taught her something about them). Delicious! It was almost a pity to have to decide. But there was a line behind her, so she quickly chose a bowl with scoops of a cherry-chocolate flavor and vanilla-strawberry. Moving down the display, she observed the ice cream being pounded on the marble slab, metal flashing in a rhythm to please both ear and eye.

Entrancing as Milly found the process, her attention began to pare off. The ice cream faded to white noise. She liked looking around sweet shops and parlors to view the people. There was hardly anyone unhappy in a place where sweets were served. Though there was a goodly queue, not too many were actually inside the parlor; most customers were taking their cones outside and went about their business. Two sticky-mouthed children sat at a booth. A tall man in white occupied a place in the back. A window-side table seated a moony-eyed young couple. The insurance girl wondered if she should also sit. Perhaps she shouldn't be away long--but her feet gave an answering twinge. She hadn't bought new Mr. Vash Duty Shoes in a year and now they felt the pinch, the sturdy leather falling in upon itself at the corners. Milly winced, casting about for a sitting place to relieve her discomfort.

Milly had learned to sense a few things growing up on the farm, most of them pleasant things, but she knew a few sinister feelings, too. One of the most sinister sensations she'd ever experienced in her childhood was when she had to fetch a baby toma or other livestock that had died in the fields and the sand buzzards and crows were already up in the sky, circling but not landing. The feeling of all those beady eyes above her had made her feel like the smallest thing in the world and she'd always been afraid the birds would start diving at her to get at the meat. Right now, in this nice little shop, she got that feeling. Milly slowly swallowed a bit of her ice cream, eyes darting. Nothing had changed. In fact, the man at the back was smiling at her. Where was the cause for alarm?

It took a few seconds for her to discover and latch her eyes onto the source of her discomfort: the man in the white coat, wearing a bizarre fashion accessory on his shoulder yet receiving no other glances from anyone else. He continued to smile that smile at her, so Milly paused to return his look; her feet seemed unwilling to move, as if they were leaden. He lifted a finger at the unoccupied seat across from him. Well, the meaning was perfectly clear, but even she didn't make a habit of going up to sit with every lonesome person she met, at least not without Meryl or another companion. Not everyone was nice.

Something like curiosity washed over her. Her desire to leave faded away when she realized that the man's shade of hair color was quite unusual and his bearing unique, and before she knew it she had stepped towards him a few paces. He lifted a pleasant face up after patting his lips with a napkin.

"Won't you please join me?" he asked her. "It's rare to meet one who has such relish for good things. Come, sit a while."

Seeing no harm in the request and in no hurry, Milly found herself setting her ice-cream down opposite his own. His bowl, almost three-quarters consumed, was considerably larger than hers, the largest available in the parlor. It showed signs of true former greatness, smudges of the remnants of many flavors and bits of nuts and coconut shavings clinging to the sides and pooling in an almost colorless lake next to the uneaten scoops. Very impressive.

"Wow," Milly whistled, "that must have been so yummy. But I don't know if I could have finished it, and it must have cost a lot."

"Quite delicious. Custom-ordered, really, since it's not on the actual menu, but they carry out requests well here," came the benign reply. "I believe it held twenty-five scoops."

"Goodness! I think it'd all melt before you got halfway!"

The man chuckled and took in a spoonful with a small slurp. "It's no problem for me. I can usually eat this in ten to fifteen minutes."

Milly had to laugh, knees bouncing under the table. Maybe he was lying, but something about him made her think that he would not lie right to her face. He took food too seriously to do a thing like that. He then started taking in his ice cream rapidly, putting an entire scoop onto his spoon and into his mouth. She almost forgot her own ice cream, fascinated by the bobbing of his throat and the small bits that flecked his mouth which he daintily wiped away.

She felt compelled to give him a warning. "You'd better watch out and eat a bit slower, or else you might get a stomachache, Mr., eh--"

"I assure you, this is nothing for me. Your solicitude is appreciated, though. But it would not do to let your treat melt. Let's just enjoy our snacks, Miss Thompson."

First thing, Milly did a quick spot-check to make sure she wasn't wearing her Bernardelli name tag on her duster; she normally didn't. Perhaps he was an acquaintance of some other family members, a schoolmate or old boyfriend? But she was fairly certain she would have remembered this one, what with his hair and, upon closer inspection, eye color. A small giggle broke out of her.

"Great guess! How did you know? You must be psychic or something."

Her companion's smile became more bland as his white teeth disappeared at the closing of his lips. He replied that Bernardelli agents, especially the female ones, weren't hard to pick out in the field. He also mentioned that they shared mutual friends. " I have encountered your friend Vash the Stampede on occasion. I daresay I've become rather attached to him. But I'd rather not be seen by him here today. It would be incredibly embarrassing for me."

Milly nodded dumbly and had listened with only half an ear. She had not liked how he'd known her name right away. She was starting not to like this and was thinking of the quickest way to gracefully excuse herself from this increasingly awkward situation. Best to just up and leave…

"I suppose it's a nice break for you to get away from the others, having traveled with them for so long," he remarked casually.

Milly shrugged. She didn't think it was a nice break at all right now, but for some reason she couldn't convey it to this suddenly intimidating man. She wondered why he wouldn't leave her alone. His voice was dropping low and the other customers didn't even bat an eyelash towards their table, as much as she'd have liked them to. How this stranger knew Mr. Vash was his own business, but she held more regard for the Bernardelli confidentiality policy than to give him anything to sink his teeth into. She managed to tear her gaze from him to stare out the window and banish his unwanted presence, kick it out of sight and mind and punt it over the rooftops, up into the squiggly clouds that reminded her of a pasta dish.

Her lovely thoughts tumbled down in tatters as the man's face came back into her view. At first Milly thought he had just stood up from the table to get in her way, but rather her chin had snapped back into its former position. A slight crease marred the space between the blue eyebrows as he waggled his index finger once, licking his lips.

"I thought you were supposed to be polite, but I suppose I heard wrong. How very rude of you to ignore a dining companion, Miss Thompson. We were about to embark upon a very interesting subject. Your friends, you must know, are some of the most fascinatingly enigmatic people to walk the face of the planet. Does this mean nothing to you?"

Staring hard at him through an indignant haze further blurred with the onset of a fascinated sort of dread, Milly swore she would tell him nothing. It was obvious what he wanted and she would give him no satisfaction. She would never turn squealer on Mr. Vash (since she assumed this man had some kind of grudge against him; there was a depressing number of those kinds of people). And if he wanted dirt on Mr. Priest, since she had to admit he got into trouble at times as well, she'd not say a word. And Meryl. . .there was no way Meryl could have gotten on this man's bad side. At the look her gave her as he took another bite of ice cream, however, she felt compelled to give him some sort of answer.

"No, it doesn't mean nothing to me, Mister. I'm not a fancy talker like you so I can't explain it very well, but I know them a bit better than you think. What I don't know--well, either it'll come to me in time or it won't. Either way, it doesn't break my heart any."

As far as she was concerned, she was done. She was about to try and send her mind away when he gave a single huffing sound in his throat.

"They look down upon you, you know," he pushed forward, relentless, still smiling; he leaned across their table until his golden eyes were almost swallowing her up, shoulders alert. "They don't really think you have a working brain cell in that head of yours." His lips formed each following word lovingly, almost like he was kissing each one out. "You are somewhat bright, Miss Thompson, which is much more than they will ever give you credit for. How many times have your opinions been disregarded? Your abilities questioned? Your intelligence insulted? Your deepest intuition dismissed as mere fantasy? As strange as it may sound for me to say this, you have a _mind_ and a _soul_ that you show in every gesture and word, and they do not care to see it! Your entire existence is a joke."

"Stop it," Milly stammered out. She was caught in between wanting to punch him in that pretty face of his or run far, far away. She couldn't do either. Her hands couldn't move except to spoon up the last of her ice cream.

"No, I do not think so."

"Why don't you leave me alone?"

His grin turned into one of pure glee, almost pleasure. "Because this is somewhat amusing. But I want answers. Now."

Understanding she could not get away until she indulged him, Milly plumbed her internal self, the only part that she had any control over, for something that would satisfy him and her. She was a horrible liar, really, and though she hated to admit it, his questions had struck her to the core. She needed to find this out more than he did.

"What you're saying could be true. Maybe they all think I'm dumb as a post. I have done some silly stuff in the past. But, but--" She shook her head in frustration. This was exactly why she hated explaining herself in detail. "But I think I'm more sensible than most people, and you say I've got a few brains. If I know it, then what does it matter what other people think? It's--it's hurtful if what you're suggesting is true. But what can I do? I'm not going to change myself or show off just for them. If they really think I'm dumb, they'll think I'm dumb. As for me, I know the real truth. And my middle big brother always said before I left home, if people won't bother with me, then I shouldn't think of them."

Just thinking of her brother and his smiles thawed out some of the ice in her chest. Her voiced modulated into a low pitch, strangely serene. "I'm happy with myself. My family loves me. I love my friends. That's all I need."

The man across the table just looked at her for a few long seconds. His face went into a sequence. First his pupils narrowed almost in disgust. Then they dilated, searching. All the while his face remained impassive in that crooked smirk. She really didn't like that smugness. Finally, he began to chuckle lightly in his throat at her in the manner of a man who'd just heard a dirty joke, smug eyes not quite mirthful to her. Oh, that was what hadn't seemed right about him to her, Milly realized; his eyes and face showed no real emotion at all, only the vestiges of it, as if he either couldn't quite muster it up or he didn't even have it in the first place. His eyelids hardly blinked. Was he even human?

"What's so funny?" Milly asked.

"You," he replied. "You make me laugh. Are you really so ingenuous, Miss Thompson? Do you really _believe_ what you just said?"

"Yes, I do."

Her dining companion placed the heel of his palm up against his eyes and shook.

"I know a lot of things, as you have seen," he crooned. "You must realize how transparent you all are to me. It's like I'm right there, all your little nasty thoughts made bare to me. Would you like to know what they all really think of you? What _he _really thinks of you?"

A mumble was his response as Milly darted her eyes away, her warning bells going off like mad now. That facet of her soul had so much delicacy, veiled so well but with such thin material that she knew he would not treat it with proper care. It'd be like a bull in a china shop; she didn't want to hear it. But since this man before her knew exactly how to tear into this web. Tongue sweetened and sharpened, he began.

"Sad, really, to be boxed in on all sides. You realize that there are times your best friend can hardly stand you? And it's true, some of the boneheaded things you've done…I'd probably have killed you by now if I were her, so her restraint is remarkable, but that's neither here nor there. When has she ever listened to you? But she does like thinking she's more clever than you and ordering you around, so she can stand it."

Milly's hand itched to punch him. The corner of her lip twitched in hurt.

"And as for Vash the Stampede, he has nothing but contempt for you, but you shouldn't take it personally. He never really gave any human being any consideration. And that is as it should be. You're all the same to him. He thinks he loves everyone equally when in fact he loves no one. You're somewhat like him in personality, actually. Maybe that is part of the reason why this is so fun."

"You be quiet!"

"And finally--ah yes, interesting. Mr. Priest? Cute name. As for Nicholas D. Wolfwood, the object of your infatuation, I think he would actually shock you the most of all. Oh, the things he thinks about, Miss Thompson. And some of them are a bit--outré, even if he weren't a priest. But you've wondered about that, haven't you? The dark looks, the cigarettes, the guns. You do know that those things aren't _normal._"

She was getting annoyed. All that pretty speech, that smooth voice, he thought he was being so clever when he wasn't saying a thing she didn't already know! Part of Mr. Wolfwood's charm to her was the unique combination of temperament and occupation. "I don't wonder. It's none of my business."

He hooded his eyes almost demurely and tapped his spoon against the rim of his bowl, sending out at a tinny buzz. "Ah, but isn't it your business when it's your own body he thinks about? But then again, you don't know the hearts of men like that. The life of a poor wandering priest, always worrying how to feed all those little children: it's uncertain, you know. And men generally don't care for uncertainty. Mr. Wolfwood may not know where his next meal may come from, _but_ he does know that he could momentarily lose all his pain and confusion and find some normality if he could kiss those, " he started tapping the spoon at each word, "fresh--sweet--innocent--lips until they bruise and bleed. And that's the tame version."

Milly squirmed but could not move an inch to save her life. The words in themselves may not have been so bad, but that tone of voice, those eyes shoved daggers at her and twisted them in. Surely this was not happening to her. Her brain was on fire. Rolling her eyes up to the ceiling, she desperately thought of clear skies, kittens, the stars, a sunset, of all the things that this man could not touch. It gave some breathing space. Collecting herself, Milly responded.

"It may be as you say. The lesson's hard. But I don't think you're completely right either, despite your fancy words. I don't even know what 'ooh-truh' is."

"Such an innocent little duckling soul!" He shook his head in the small wonder one might give a confusing poem verse. "Yet surprisingly tenacious. Well, live in your little Milly world as long as you can. They are all just using you. Which isn't so bad, really, but I felt compelled to let you in on the gag."

If she weren't so angry and nearly numb Milly probably would have burst into tears. The smile she gave wobbled all over the place and her voice was thick, but she gave back her final volley. "If it helps them in any way, then I don't care. I can't help what they think. I think it's silly to pretend things are one way when it's clear they aren't, but they have to realize that themselves. All I can be is me; I can't think for them. Don't think you can guilt-trip me like people do with Mr. Vash. No offence to him, but I have much more common sense than he does. I've done nothing wrong and I won't be made ashamed!"

The man calmly ate the final bits of melted runoff at the bottom of the bowl. He licked the spoon perfectly clean and dangled it in front of him as he rolled his lazy golden eye.

"Well, it has been fun," he brushed at his white coat airily. "But I'm through with you now. You may go."

Milly reeled. It was just _so rude!_ All of her insides, from her mind down to her chest, all felt like they'd been put through a wringer after an acid bath, felt violated, and he just twiddled his fingers and dropped the subject entirely. For all his fancy words about her loved ones and their shortcomings, he'd acted the cruelest of all. His outward beauty only made it worse. Milly glared at him, at his empty bowl licked spotless. He had passed the limit--he'd eaten and eaten all that sugar until it had made him sick and rotted at him. He wasn't enjoying it at all--not really. And if he could not enjoy even a bowl of ice cream on a hot day, he would probably be one of the wretchedest people she had ever met. Part of her would have liked to feel sorry for him, perhaps, if it weren't wasted on his kind, not even a smidgen of human warmth in him! Milly stuck out her bottom lip, a sure sign of her extreme displeasure, and kicked the man's shins under the table. Her foot connected with empty air (she had been so sure she knew where to hit) but his face remained unchanging except that he wasn't smiling anymore.

"You jerk!" she yelled, not caring who heard her in the shop. "You planned this all along!"

"I certainly did not. Don't think so highly of yourself."

Her vision had abandoned her, flown off on wings of a deep and utter rage that she had never experienced in all her life, a terrible anger that felt like it was singeing her guts. Milly slammed her hands down on the table, not trusting herself to look this man in the eyes, and she didn't care what kinds of looks were cast at her.

"I can tell you this, you're an evil, evil man. But you don't care about that. You're the sickest person I've ever met. You're probably enjoying this, making fun of me. It's people like you that make life so hard. Still, I won't be yanked around by someone like you, you miserable bastard. Let me be!"

The smile that he gave her then made him look as if he wanted to eat her as well. His tone was dark. "Idiot, don't antagonize me further. If I wanted, I'd snap your neck and throw your worthless corpse down where none of your insipid so-called friends would find it! But it's not in my best interests right now. Get out of my sight, you filthy thing. You'll be broken by suffering."

With a flick of his index finger, Milly willed herself to stand and she did with all speed. She turned and went out the door as quickly as she could and took care not to look back even once until she was out on the sidewalk, away from the large front glass windows. The suns were so bright, she couldn't see. Through the haze she spotted some park benches set up before a small fountain, much like the town where Mr. Vash had played dodge ball with the children. Those had been nice days. Somehow she lurched towards them and sat down heavily. Never had anyone spoken so horribly to her before. It made her feel a bit sick now as she began to get feeling back in her insides again. A hand dipped down into the water and she rubbed at her face, liking the coolness. Milly peered down at her refracted reflection in the ripples, hands still at her cheeks, smile even wobblier. She made a face, which then caused her to giggle at last.

"I won't let him beat me. He won't win. People like him don't last long."

Really, what more was there to say than that? He had just been some bully who tried to intimidate and belittle her. If he thought her of no account, that was his right, she supposed, but he wasn't right himself. Not completely. And that was his own mistake to make. She wasn't like Mr. Vash; she had to do right, but she didn't think she had to account for errors that weren't hers. He was an evil man, but that's why people like Mr. Vash existed. And she was sure that he would do himself in somehow; then he'd be sorry.

With a small groan, she leaned back against the warm stone. A small black stray cat suddenly appeared beside her. Its eyes blinked as it meowed; it let her scoop it up into her lap and be held against her middle. Now this was what it was all about, Milly thought stoutly to herself. Clearly that man hadn't ever just sat back in the suns and cuddled a cute animal. Heck, with his appetite, he might have tried to eat the cat. Milly wiggled the stray in her arms, cooing over it.

"Don't worry, kitty, I'd never let that meanie eat you!" The cat apparently approved of this, since it 'nyaa'ed in return. The tall girl stood up. "Right. Well, I suppose I better start looking and see if I can find one of them. Can't keep them waiting too long!"

Looking back on everything now, the whole happening in the shop seemed bizarre and unreal. Perhaps it had been one of those tricks of fate Mr. Vash sometimes talked about. It hadn't been a very funny trick but now, at least, it was over. That man--he'd made her feel so country and simple, yet she wondered if he hadn't been somewhat cracked. What kind of person talked like that to perfect strangers over ice cream? Clearly an oddball. She wouldn't let any kook like that ruin her day. She was certain she'd never see him again.

Milly's lips suddenly felt sticky in the heat and as she walked she stuck out her tongue to clean them off a little. A sweet taste filled her mouth. Even if it would have been much better with presence of real friends, that had been some good ice cream.

THE END


End file.
